thinking about you // harry styles

. . .

/ been thinking about you, your record's a hit / your eyes are on my wall, your teeth are over there / but i'm still no-one, and you're not a star / what do you care? /

. . .

“i’ve been thinking about him again, his record’s a hit.” i commented to my mom while i sipped my hot chocolate.

“i know it’s hard sweetie, but you need to forget about him.” she replied, tapping her fingers on the bench.

“i’m still no one and he’s not a star, what does he care?” i said, completely ignoring my mother, not on purpose of course, my thoughts were just rambling on and on.

“i- ” my mother began to say but stopped herself, knowing that anything she said would be ignored.

. . .

/ been thinking about you, and there's no rest / shit, i still love you, still see you in bed / and what do you care / when the other men are far, far better /

. . .

“you look like you haven’t slept in ages.” my best friend, lilly stated. she didn’t really think about anything that came out of her mouth, she was the most honest person i knew.

“i haven’t lilly, i’ve been thinking about him.” i said, flicking through random items of clothing on the racks.

“you need to forget him.” but alas, i had gone into my own world, thinking about him.

“shit, i still love him.” sudden realization hit me.

“he doesn’t deserve your love.” lilly said, her voice sounding very sincere.

“i still see him in my bed.” i said quietly while my cheeks flushed pink.

“honey, maybe your mom was right, maybe you need to see someone.” she said, making me sound like i was crazy.

“he doesn’t even care, there are women far, far better,” i laughed, bitterly, “why would he care.”

. . .

/ all the things you got / all the things you need / who bought you cigarettes and bribed the company / to come and see you, honey /

. . .

“you can’t still be hung up about him.” my father said, coming into my room and sitting on my bed, bring me some lunch.

“i did so much for him, i gave so much to him, how could he just leave like that.” i said, taking a bit of my sandwich.

“that’s life sweetie, love doesn’t always work out.” he said, looking at my photos on the wall.

“i bought him cigarettes, i bribed the company to come and see him! he can’t just walk out like that!” i said, getting frustrated fast.

. . .

/ i've been thinking about you, so how can you sleep / these people aren't your friends, they're paid to kiss your feet / but they don't know what i know, and why should you care / when i'm not there /

. . .

“you know that saying, ‘when you can’t sleep it’s because someone is thinking/dreaming about you?” i questioned my older sister as we read through our menus.

“yeah, what about it?” she asked, biting her lip, flicking through all the options on what to have for dinner.

“why does he get sleep and i never can?” i said, leaning on my elbows for support.

“because that’s a myth and you’re in love.” she said simply, acting as if she had no feelings.

“those people aren’t even his real friends, they’re paid to kiss his feet and love him.” i said, taking a sip on my wine. “i bet they don’t even know what i know, but why should i care when i’m not there.”

she hummed in agreement, but i just don’t think she cares anymore, she doesn’t want to hear my problems.

so i just sipped more of my wine and shut up.

. . .

/ all the things you got, you'll never need / all the things you've got, i bled and i bleed to please you /

. . .

i sat in my room, it hit 3:25am as i looked at the clock.

i still love him.

he is gone.

he has got everything he’ll never need.

but why would he care about me?

he has got everything and i was left with nothing.

i sliced my wrists, blood everywhere.

is this what he wanted?

is he happy now?

. . .

author’s note:

i’m very sorry

i wrote this quickly (for me)

this was inspired by the song thinking of you by radiohead

i wanted to write something inspired by a song

this is the only chapter by the way

i hope you liked it

comment/vote/fan/etc

love you love bugs

thank you for reading

bye bye